


Fantastic Omens

by rungirlrun



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Angels being seductive, Demons being shy, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 20:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rungirlrun/pseuds/rungirlrun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale wants Crowley. Crowley is, strangely, oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantastic Omens

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Good Omens, it's just my fave :)
> 
> First work on ao3!!

Fantastic Omens

It was one of those nights before Armageddon but after the young Antichrist had been Placed on Earth. Crowley had carefully packed up all of his notes from Mrs Ashtoreth and was at this moment speeding down the back streets of London towards a café Aziraphale had suggested.  
He cursed under his breath frequently. That damne- curs- blessed angel! Who was he to decide that the child needed tutoring now, and the nanny would have to go? Ashtoreth was good at her job, in all the ways that a satanist can be good.  
Crowley had been proud of what Ashtoreth had been doing, and what she hadn't been doing was even more impressive.  
She'd been a perfect pawn in their miniature chess game (Crowley liked to imagine the Ineffable Game as something more impressive. Monopoly, or maybe darts) through her useless advice and lessons and now he'd have to find someone else.  
He rounded a corner and skidded past a streetlight with a sound rather like /whoosh/.

Aziraphale fidgeted with his shirtsleeves. The café was quite romantic, and it served gin, which was a bonus. The plan was to get Crowley in a calm, atmospheric kind of mood, and then invite him home. Tempt the demon. The angel was well aware that every step towards Crowley he took, the higher the Sin Count. And inviting him to bed was practically demonic.  
This was one of those times, Aziraphale thought, that ineffability could just stick it. He looked fearfully upwards as he thought, though, so maybe He would take pity.  
Crowley burst into the café then, snapping his fingers behind him. A car horn beeped, and Aziraphale stood, palms slightly clammy.  
"Crowley, dear boy," he said welcomingly. The demon gave him a smile and Aziraphale caught a glimpse of his pointed tongue. He shivered. Crowley strode over and set a notebook in front of Aziraphale.  
"Right," he said. "I've put everything together and you'd better appreciate it because I was up all night and -" he paused. Aziraphale was looking troubled, a look Crowley fully enjoyed. It meant he was considering an act of sin. He grinned and sat down, waiting.  
Aziraphale noticed the silence.  
"Oh! Sorry, what was that?" He said distractedly. Crowley's smile widened.  
"You alright there, angel?" He asked. Aziraphale gave him a grateful look.  
"Crowley, my dear, I'd truly appreciate it if we took tonight off. What would you say to having a few drinks and taking our minds off this mess for a while?" He offered coaxingly. "After all, I can always ask you to bring the notebook with you back to mine later."  
Crowley's eyebrows raised slightly, but his expression remained controlled.  
"Fair enough, angel." He looked around. "Say, did you mention this place does gin?" 

\----------

Two hours and several drinks later, the pair stumbled their way out of the café ("This is not a pub! You bastards had better find somewhere to bugger off to!") and into Crowley's Bentley. Aziraphale cleared his bloodstream of alcohol.  
"Crowley, I'd like for you to take me home," he said. Crowley nodded, wincing as he sobered up. His notebook of All Things Warlock lay on the backseat. Of course, Aziraphale looked good enough to eat (or conveniently ingest), but demon or not, he wouldn't defile an angel for his own pleasure, so he'd leave him at the doorstep once again.  
The car vroomed gently down the motorway, and perhaps it hit a few lampposts and pedestrians. For once, Aziraphale wasn't looking.  
They drew up to the bookshop. The night was dark with a vaguely satanic edge to it, and Crowley looked around nervously as he walked Aziraphale to his door. Walking angels in was something you just did, and didn't ask questions. Crowley had never asked the angel beside him to walk -him- in, but there you had it. He was the demon in this relationship, after all.  
Aziraphale paused outside the door and turned to face him. He seemed conflicted. Ah, thought Crowley. Here was where the sinning came in. He settled in to watch.  
Aziraphale opened and shut his mouth a few times before he spoke.  
"Would you like to... Ahem." The angel paused. "Would you like to sodomise?"  
Crowley looked at him blankly.  
Aziraphale coughed embarrassedly. "I believe a term you frequently use is 'Make out,'" he said.  
Crowley stared.  
"What?" He said.  
"What, now?" He said.  
Aziraphale took him gently by the hand.  
"Perhaps you'd like to come in," he told the demon.

**Author's Note:**

> That's all for now, folks! Hope you enjoyed the mini-drabble; I'm aiming to write a lot more, so keep an eye out!  
> Stay classy  
> Run  
> <3


End file.
